


Up In The Air

by GMTYUniverse



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: ATC!Harry Styles, Exes to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Mixed feelings, Penis jokes, Pining, aka air traffic controller, as usual lol, confused feelings, in Porto, pilot!Louis Tomlinson, some angst i suppose, some fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-12 06:43:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMTYUniverse/pseuds/GMTYUniverse
Summary: Louis and Harry used to date once upon a time, until Harry decided that he wanted to go and face the big adventure awaiting him outside of the UK. Louis doesn't go with him, and so Harry breaks them up. It's not until years later, when they both end up at the same small, local airport just out of Porto in Portugal that they're faced with what's left of their past relationship.





	Up In The Air

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! 
> 
> Thanks for organising to the mods A & E, and also thanks to K for loling with me when I came up with this waaaaay earlier this year :P les phallic jokes than promised maybe but still penis jokes

There’s a big pink ocean and Harry’s swimming in it, while little zebus surround him wearing snorkel masks and then he’s drowning, drowning - except he’s suddenly in an ambulance but the sirens sound alarmingly similar to his clo –

Oh. Harry jolts awake and manages to dunk the top of his clock so the incessant beeping comes to an end. He can already feel today will be a hot day, what with the sweltering heat that’s managed to penetrate his room.

At least it explains why he was dreaming about drowning, Harry thinks to himself as he notices the sweat drenched blanket. Living in Portugal is still taking some getting used to.

Not like he misses the British dreary weather, it’s just – okay, sometimes Harry _does_ miss the British weather. Especially in summer. The Portuguese summers are just too hot, and they’re too dry, which is also a total disaster for his hair.

However. Britain did not have a position for Harry as air traffic controller. Porto did. And so Harry is here. Trying to survive as a pale beanpole amidst the Mediterranean folks.

He quickly rolls out of bed, and sighs when he sees his air conditioning unit isn’t working. He’d already expected as much given the amount of sweat he’d woken up in, but it still sucks when he finds that switching it off and on again doesn’t solve the problem. He’ll have to get it fixed properly, and hope that maybe he can kip on Niall’s sofa in the meantime.

He takes a cold shower, and tries to remember what he loves so much about his work. It makes him feel better for exactly 10 minutes – that’s when the heat starts strangling him once again. Harry decides to just have breakfast at the airport, where there’s air conditioning at least. Niall does it all the time, usually sits with the pilots that are just coming in that day.

It’ll be fine.

Except it’s not fine.

One of those pilots sitting with Niall is Harry’s ex and it is most _definitely_ not fine. Normally Harry takes good care of keeping an eye on the schedule, but in all the chaos of this morning he’d clearly forgotten about it.

It’s a little ironic that distance is what broke them apart, and yet here they are again – accidentally caught up in each other’s orbit. The most annoying thing about it, is that Harry is now realising that Louis Tomlinson’s eyes really are the bluest greenest blue eyes that Harry has ever seen. They are quite literally all that Harry’s world revolves around, the more he gets to look at them. 

Which clearly is absolutely idiotic, considering they only dated for 5 months in college and then Harry transferred to Ireland while Louis stayed home. Mostly because Harry didn’t tell him about going to Ireland until a week before he was meant to go. Looking back, their break-up was really the culmination of a whole lot of _stupid_.

First, there was Harry’s gross misunderstanding of thinking that somehow it’d be best if he didn’t tell Louis until it was ‘really necessary’. Sometimes he wonders whether he was scared Louis’d tell him no and just wanted to enjoy the most of their time together before he left without complicating things. To an extent, he _was_ right, because Louis did not see it as obvious that he’d follow Harry to Dublin and finish up college there instead.

 _“Harry,” Louis had started, clearly a little hesitant, and Harry could feel his heart start hurting already. “I can’t. You know I can’t. I’ve got responsibilities here –_ my _studies are still here. With a week’s notice – I – no. And then there’s my family. I’m sorry – no. We’ve only been dating for five months anyways. What if things don’t work out?”_

Now, Harry had desperately tried to make Louis see his point of view, but just repeating ‘but what if they _do’_ hadn’t done it for him. And while Louis had offered to come visit, to try things long-distance – Harry had refused. Instead, he'd presented Louis with an ultimatum. 

_“If you support me, you’ll come with me. If you don’t, we’re done.’ Louis had looked at him with something akin to horrified amazement._

_‘Support you? Of course I support you. How can you doubt that? I am so happy and proud of you that you got into this program, that you’re following your dreams. But you cannot confuse support for me just – following your orders?! I’m not an accessory. A supportive relationship is not a one way street. I don’t appreciate being, god, I don’t know, emotionally manipulated like that.’_

It’d been one of the last conversations he’d had with Louis. Or well, one of the last fights. Either way – they’d ended up not being involved in each other’s lives at all, until Harry had accepted the position here in Porto and he’d run into one of Louis’ friends from college, Liam, excitedly telling him that his friend Louis would be starting as pilot at their airport soon. 

And so there’s both the lingering awkwardness of their break-up - that looking back, was unnecessary and driven by stupid teenage stubbornness and impulsiveness – as well as the fact Harry’s still got a weakness for Louis and he _hates_ it. Because he’s also still hurt and a little bit angry, even though he may admit it’s for petty reasons.

Irrational as it is, it’s there and it’s eating away at him.

Usually, he tries to combat his complex mix of feelings by keeping direct contact to a minimum. Clearly that’s not in the cards for him today, because Louis is sitting right there at the breakfast table next to Niall. Harry would love to abort his mission of getting breakfast and just go straight to work, but Niall’s already spotted him and is excitedly waving him over now.

“Here, take my spot Styles! I gotta go and get the first batch of flight plans ready,” Niall offers. It’s nice and perfectly polite, but Harry can’t help but glare after his friend as he leaves.

He glances over at Louis, but he’s too engrossed in mixing several cereals together in his bowl it seems. With a sigh, he plops down and starts to eat his sandwich.

“Hey Harold,” Louis nudges his leg and Harry’s pretty sure he’s this close to spontaneously self-combusting – be it in a good or a bad way.

He swallows the piece of bread still stuck in his mouth, then nods in acknowledgment.

‘Harry,’ he adds dumbly, ‘my name’s Harry – not Harold.’

Louis tilts his head to the side and Harry tries so hard not to look at him, but he also doesn’t want to be rude, so he’s stuck staring at Louis’ eyebrows instead. It’s unfair that even his eyebrows manage to get Harry worked up.

He’s supposed to have zero feelings for Louis, and yet it’s frustrating that he somehow isn’t able to let it go – let _him_ go. It’s been years, and yet here Harry is. Stunned by a pair of perfectly arched, fucking eyebrows.

“I know that, _Harold_ ,” Louis adds for good measure, teasing lilt to his voice that is all too familiar.

He blanks momentarily, and just stares back. Because of course Louis knows that. They dated. He knows almost everything about Harry.

“It’s just a joke, I didn’t know you – you should’ve said something earlier. I – sorry you felt like you couldn’t,” Louis starts rambling out an apology, hand gripping Harry’s shoulder as he twists his upper body to be able to properly face him.

It’s so endearing and so _nice_ that Harry just kind of wants to curl up in a ball and weep over the fact that Louis is pretty much perfect. But it’s also absolutely infuriating that he’s now made Louis think he cares. That he has some kind of influence or impact on Harry still. He shouldn’t. He doesn’t.

‘It’s fine – you can call me Harold, ‘s alright when it’s you.’ Emphasizing the fact Louis' the exception to the rule is the opposite of what he wants to express, but at least his interruption manages to halt Louis’ talking. He even gives Harry a blinding smile, the one that reaches his eyes and makes them go all crinkly on the sides. Harry loves that smile.

 _God_ , that’s annoying information to have to accept.

“Oi, Harold, you gonna finish that sandwich?” Liam nods towards the half-eaten tuna roll that Harry’d abandoned in favour of talking to Louis.

‘It’s _Harry_ , Lima bean, don’t you ever pay attention?’

Liam balks at Louis’ exasperated tone, while Harry tries not to smile. 

There’s a small scuffle where Liam and Louis pretend to try and catch each other in a headlock, but it ends with them hugging each other instead.

‘See you up there?’ Louis asks, voice sounding slightly muffled from the way his cheek is smushed against Liam’s shoulder.

Sometimes Harry wishes he was able to settle for a friendship like that with Louis, but there’s this awkward, lingering sea of insecurity between them. They’re just not really sure how to act around one another, so many things left unsaid – and still so many other things that were said, but _shouldn’t_ have been.

“See you,” Harry confirms.

It’s much easier to talk to Louis when he gets to tell him where to take off or land. He’s confident then. When he’s nothing but the tower, and Louis is nothing but a plane in the sky going by his callsign the Rogue, or whatever commercial plane he's flying that day.

Harry checks the flight paths that Niall had painstakingly prepared earlier, as he enters the control room, and is only mildly disappointed when he finds out Louis isn’t on his list after all.

Which is fine. Maybe it’s even better. Maybe, what Harry needs is an actual clean break. Except they’ve been on break for years on end, and it hasn’t done anything to make Harry’s lingering crush go away.

It’s the thought that counts, though.

Anything’s better than admitting he’s actually disappointed at not getting to spend some time talking to Louis about flight details like where and when to take off, or guiding him back down onto the right landing strip.

Harry’s day is going just fine, nothing out of the ordinary – no major delays, no sudden weather changes, no lost luggage – when Niall suggests they all go for drinks after work.

His initial, almost automatic response is to blurt out ‘absolutely not’. Harry is pretty sure that he cannot rely on himself whilst inebriated not to talk to or _about_ Louis and he doesn’t know how that will end.

Knowing how Niall hates conflict, he’d probably push Louis on him even more if only to smooth things over.

As far as Niall knows, Harry just dislikes Louis because he reminds him of Mike – the idiot he dated at the start of his stay in Porto. Niall really didn’t like Mike, and Harry should’ve realised a lot earlier that Niall has great people instincts. Because as it turned out, Mike was an absolute tool. The first couple of months of dating had been fun and exhilarating, and Harry was so _so_ happy that his crush hadn’t gone unanswered. Except then Harry had accidentally seen a text come in on Mike’s phone, from someone named “London” and from there he’d figured he was nothing but “Porto” to Mike. It actually made him decide to never date pilots ever again.

He knows it’s a little rigorous, and that Mike was just an asshole all by himself, but still. His track record with pilots is bad, despite there being plenty other pilots who are perfectly nice and great people.

For example, there’s no one who values loyalty like Louis does. Harry’s always thought being a pilot was a bit of an odd job choice for someone like him, who cares so much about his roots – his home. Then again, he also remembers how a wide-eyed Louis had told him flying feels liberating to him, like the “epitome of freedom”. Harry had felt like flying whenever he was with Louis too.

Though clearly that relationship had crashed too – hence the bad track record. Harry can’t explain any of that to Niall, though. That he doesn’t want to go and spend more time than necessary with the newer pilots, including Louis, because he’s afraid of his own feelings – be it positive or negative, he isn’t even sure. That he’s afraid of exposing this … history between Louis and him, and have that somehow ruin the precarious balance they’ve created in absence of talking things over. That he’d rather have Louis in this weird, distant sense of almost normalcy, than not at all. Besides, he doesn't want to deny Niall or Louis the opportunity to be friends. 

“But I won't even be able to change,” he tries in a last ditch effort, though it’s clear Niall isn’t taking no for an answer.

‘That's fine – I quite love a man in uniform,’ Louis pipes up suddenly.

He’s standing right behind Harry, and he can’t help but feel slightly ambushed by his physical presence.

Louis is grinning at Niall, but then he flicks his eyes over to Harry and his smile dampens a little. It makes Harry’s stomach sink.

“Good one Tommo – see Harry? Nothing to worry about, it’ll be good! Let’s go!”

Harry would love to tell Niall how it will definitely not be ‘good’, but he can’t do that with Louis standing right there, waiting for him to come join them. There’s no reason to stall – his replacement for the evening shift, Maria, is already at her station and has taken over completely.

Begrudgingly, Harry walks over to his locker and gets out his bag before joining the others outside. 

“Hey, is it alright if Louis hitches a ride with you? He was supposed to go with Zayn but his bike broke down,” Niall asks him and Harry already knows that it’s not so much a question rather than a statement. It’s Niall just making him aware that this is what’s been decided while Harry was grabbing his things from his locker.

Louis gives him an easy smile and honestly, it shouldn’t be as achingly familiar as it is – him leaning against Harry’s Jeep, sunglasses pushed up into his hair to serve as a headband of sorts.

‘Yup, super alright. Totally, completely fine. Splendid,’ Harry mutters while Niall bounds over to his own car. It’s a little confusing to Harry why Louis can’t just ride with Niall – but he’s not even going to ask. Niall’s pretty much the human equivalent of a bloodhound sniffing out personal problems, and he’s not ready to have to talk about this situation. In fact, he’s quite certain the reason Niall keeps making him spend time with Louis is because he’s already figured out something isn’t right.

So, he steels himself for spending about an hour with Louis in the confined space that is his car.

God. They’re going to have to _talk_ , and Harry is going to embarrass himself. He just knows it.

‘Really sorry for inconveniencing you, I’ll make sure to pay you some money for gas – promise,’ Louis starts, grimacing as Harry approaches.

“It’s not an inconvenience,” he replies shortly, before opening the Jeep up for Louis. There’s a chance he might spontaneously combust on the way to the pub, but well – that’s Harry’s problem. Not Louis’.

Louis climbs in the front passenger seat and straps himself in with the seatbelt. Harry waits a beat to see if Louis is going to adjust the seat or anything, but he’s sitting uncharacteristically still.

With a shrug, Harry fastens his own seatbelt and starts the engine. Stifling silence descends upon them, apart from the uncomfortable shuffling Louis keeps doing from time to time.

“You could, uh – it’d be alright if you wanted to adjust the seat and the seatbelt a little, you know?”

‘Thank fuck,’ Louis sighs out in relief as he immediately starts fiddling with the seat’s settings. ‘I didn’t want to like, fuck anything up for you. I’m normally quite nosy,’ he breaks off.

Harry scrunches his nose, but he can’t help but let a response slip past his lips. Of course he knows what Louis is like. 

“I know.”

‘Right,’ is all that Louis says back, slipping back into silence. Harry wants to hit himself in the head for ruining the semblance of normalcy by having a big mouth, but it’s too late now. He grips the wheel a little tighter, switching lanes in an attempt to distract himself.

‘I just don’t want to be a nuisance, guess I wanted to leave a good impression, ‘s all.’

He sounds a little self-deprecating, and while Harry definitely doesn’t know exactly what he wants from Louis – he is very certain that self-deprecating isn’t it, at the very least.

“Well, five star review so far. You haven’t even put your feet up on the dashboard when I know you really want to.”

He keeps his gaze firmly on the road, but he can’t help but let his eyes flicker once, twice in Louis’ direction – only to see a small smile gracing his features.

They're both quiet, but this time it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as before, less weighted somehow.

‘I hope your mum and sister are alright,’ Louis offers after a while. It sends a stab through Harry’s heart. Louis never met them in person back when they were dating. By the time they’d planned a visit home, Harry had already decided on Ireland and Louis had decided to stay back. But he had always cared.

“They're good. Mum is relatively okay with me being here. Said at least she has a holiday address now. Gemma is in London, works at a marketing agency.”

‘No teaching?’ Louis sounds slightly surprised, and Harry can't help but be somewhat endeared by the fact he's clearly remembered the things Harry used to tell him about his family.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Nope. Changed her degree after about a year, she is _much_ happier there.”

Louis nods, then goes back to staring out of the window. Before Harry can ask about Louis’ family, he starts talking again.

‘God, it is _really_ dry here. I knew I should've expected it, but it's a lot worse than I thought it would be. Is this pub one that comes with a pool? Jesus.’

Harry snorts. “It’s by the shore strip. You’ll get used to the heat soon enough.”

Louis hums in assent, but doesn’t say anything else. It’s kind of ironic to Harry that he’s too hot, when he remembers Louis as always being cold back when they were together. He’d ended up carrying around an additional sweater, just so he could give it to Louis.

Maybe Louis will even end up loving the Portuguese heat more than dreary, cold England. Then again, probably not. Harry still finds it quite difficult to understand why he would ever leave behind his home and his family. He didn’t even want to go Ireland, for God’s sake. That’s way closer than Portugal is.

Somehow, he doesn’t quite like the idea that Louis has changed his mind on those things without Harry there to witness it all. 

They don’t really talk much for the remainder of the ride over to Paulo’s, leaving Harry torn between feeling relieved or disappointed.

“Hey,” Louis pipes up just as Harry’s about to open his door. He falls back into his seat and looks over warily. He’s got an inkling as to what Louis wants to talk about, but doing so in his car with the aircon already shut off after a long day of work is _not_ his ideal time and place.

“I know me being here isn’t – it’s not what you planned for and I’m sorry. About a lot of things. I don’t – I don’t want to complicate things here for you.”

Harry can’t help but let out a derisive laugh, even though he can see that Louis really means what he’s saying.

‘Are you serious? We don’t need to talk about anything, and you certainly don’t have to apologise. We’re all good. You’re not complicating anything. We broke up years ago, and we didn’t even date for half a year. It was nothing but a stupid fledgling relationship that’s in the past. We’re colleagues now. We can be amicable and professional, just like we’ve been up until now. Want to do me a favour? Please don’t make this into a bigger deal than it is.’

So maybe he’s being a little harsh, and maybe he’s not entirely honest about his feelings regarding Louis – but he has to protect himself. He has to keep his distance, and he really doesn’t want to deal with anything that isn’t absolutely necessary right now.

Taken aback by Harry’s outburst, Louis just nods and scrambles to get out before skirting inside the pub. Harry slams the door shut with perhaps a bit more force than needed, and locks the car without looking back.

“I need a fucking drink,” he mutters as soon as he catches sight of Niall sitting at the bar. He’s tired from work and only feeling slightly guilty over what he’s just dumped on Louis. But he’s also very determined to not care about him whatsoever, or at least ignore the small pit of feelings that’s been brewing ever since he transferred here.

Or maybe since they broke up – whatever. Harry doesn’t know, and he’s not ready to know.

‘So – wanna tell me why you and Louis still haven’t become best friends?’ Niall questions, blue eyes focused on the Canadian bartender he’s been crushing on recently.

When Harry doesn’t answer, he swivels in his stool to give him an expectant look. “He came rushing in, and ordered drinks for all of his co-pilots very loudly. You came stomping in, looking halfway murderous or turned on – I’m not sure yet what your frog face means. But either way, you didn’t come in _together_ when clearly that’s what friends are supposed to do. And I just do not get why you and Louis cannot be friends.”

It comes out sounding almost as a whine, even though Harry is feeling properly chastised by his friend.

‘Ni. Trust me on this – stop trying to make this happen. We’re just too different, and it’s better if we keep our distance from each other.’

Niall slams his fist on the bar top, then smiles apologetically at Shawn before turning back to Harry. “No! You’re a good mate, and so is Louis. From where I’m standing, you’re actually a lot alike. And I don’t want to have to keep my distance from either of you. I, selfishly, want to be able to hang out with you two together. And I _will_ make this happen. If not me – then the Portuguese cocktails will.”

Harry chances a glance back at the booth where Liam and Louis are chatting with some other pilots that fly from this location. He wonders if Louis has told Liam all about their breakup. All Liam had said to Harry was that he’d gone to Harry’s original flight school as well, and from there they’d figured out their mutual connection was Louis. So either Liam was exceptionally good at keeping secrets or at being neutral. Or maybe he just didn’t know anything at all. 

Louis looks up then, and his eyes find Harry’s across the pub. They stare at each other for a short second, before he averts his gaze and continues gesturing loudly as he speaks.

“See? What was that? Why do you guys do that? Damn. I really though an hour of quality time in your car would fix whatever your issue with each other is. Shawn – get me some tequila shots.”

Niall looks peeved, but Harry just rolls his eyes at the frown on his face. ‘Niall, please. We’re just colleagues. It’s fine. We are professional and amicable - hey!’

He interrupts himself when he sees his friend parroting his words, then swats his arm. ‘I’m being serious!’

“Honestly, Harry. Who even says ‘amicable’? Only the ones who aren’t amicable at all. Now. Take this shot, then tell me why it is we are never going to be best friends with Louis. It’s a shame. I really wanted to have him on my footie team, but I guess that’s out of the question.” Niall trails off, then shrugs and pushes the newly arrived shots in Harry’s direction.

He knows it’s going to end badly, and he even tries to bring up his car as an excuse not to drink – but Niall shushes him and tells him they’ll share an Uber. Harry can’t argue with that logic, so he sighs and throws back the shots.

‘I can’t believe you’ve got me drinking tequila dry. You know I hate that,’ he whines, then motions for Shawn to bring him a tequila sunrise instead. It’s fruity and fun and he knows Shawn is never stingy with the amount of alcohol in there.

Niall just shrugs and smiles happily as Shawn automatically refreshes his beer for him and adds a wink to the mix. Harry raises an eyebrow at the exchange, and immediately leans over once Shawn’s gone. ‘What’s that all about? Are you finally dating? Tell me!’

His friend just takes another sip of his fresh pint, and shakes his head. “You know I do not kiss and tell.”

‘A-ha! So there _was_ kissing!’ Harry exclaims, finger wagging in the air as he points at Niall.

“There won’t be if you keep shouting like that!” Niall hisses and grips Harry’s hand before bringing it back down. “God, I always forget how quickly the tequila gets the best of you. Now stop changing the subject.”

Harry takes a moment to figure if Niall’s telling the truth, and he realises he’s already slightly swaying in his seat. He giggles at his own misfortune. With his stature, he’s always expected to hold his liquor better than he actually does in reality.

‘Maybe so. But I’m still not gonna tell you anything about Louis,’ he juts out his chin in defiance and motions for Shawn to come over. Niall looks slightly alarmed, though he lets out a relieved sigh as Harry does nothing but order himself a Corona.

“I’ll have the same, please,” he hears from beside him. He doesn’t have to look over to know it’s Louis that’s sidled up to the bar.

Harry groans internally, or at least – he thinks he’s doing it internally, but the softly muttered apology from Louis tells him otherwise.

Shawn smiles brightly at the new arrival and nods. ‘Coming right up, I’m Shawn – you’re… Lewis right?’

Without thinking, Harry answers his question. “It’s Louis – pronounced like the French.”

The moment the words are out of his mouth, he knows he’s already fucked up. Louis just stares at him in surprise, whereas Niall’s eyebrows are almost up in his hairline.

‘Yes, thank you Harold. It’s indeed Louis. Like the French. Which I’m sure a Canadian fellow like you can pronounce just fine,’ he teases, then adds a wink for good measure.

The comment goes over extremely will with Shawn, who blushes immediately at Louis’ full attention. On the other hand, it goes over extremely badly with Niall. Harry notices the way his nostrils flare, and the corners of his mouth turn downwards.

“Niall quite likes the Canadian accent,” Harry adds – only to get elbowed in his side. Still, Harry doesn’t regret saying it, because Shawn seems even more charmed by this new revelation as he turns back to look at Niall.

‘Really? I quite like the Irish accent myself.’

Niall swears up and down he never blushes, but Harry’s pretty sure the red flush on his cheeks is exactly that. He turns to Louis and already finds him grinning, eyes flickering between Niall and Shawn in understanding. He’s always been a touch soft for romanticism.

Clearly, Niall does not know how to handle straight-forward flirting as he shoots Harry and Louis a panicked look.

“Well, uh. Thanks,” he squeaks out, apparently desperate to get Shawn’s heated gaze off of him. “So Louis, where’d you get your sign from? The Rogue? You’ve been here for a month or so now, and I still haven’t figured it out.”

Another one of those things that Harry missed out on. He wants to act like he doesn’t care, but he finds himself looking over at Louis in interest either way. There’s something strange about his smile, almost as if he’s a little uneasy – just a slight second where his shoulders pull back as if he’s steeling himself for something.

‘Oh that’s not that interesting, and even if it was - the story behind those callsigns are supposed to remain secret.’

Niall makes a face, then motions for Liam to join them at the bar. “Oi! Do you know how Tommo here got his callsign? Give us the dirt!”

Liam looks up a little confused, but he immediately turns to check on Louis’ expression. ‘Uh, I don’t think I know of any dirt.’

Niall balks at that. “Impossible.”

‘Except when he went and misused his privileges to create giant penis clouds,’ Liam continues thoughtfully, as Harry chokes on his drink.

Louis almost immediately pulls him into a headlock, while Niall guffaws loudly which gets Shawn to investigate as to what he’s missed while serving other patrons.

“You should do that here! Honestly we could use the excitement. Now it’s busy what with tourist season, but once summer ends it’s going to be dead boring.”

Harry wishes Niall would just shut up already, and stop goading Louis into writing giant penises in the sky. It hits a little too close to home. When they were still dating, there was one time that they stayed up late in the student center and took turns on the simulation machine. Louis would practice his flying, and Harry would take the opportunity to properly map and guide Louis’ flight pattern in the air.

At one point, Louis had stopped flying routine paths and had instead used the machine to write Harry messages as he traced his movements on the ATC console. It’d gone from romantic to explicit, and Harry had cried tears of laughter from the crude drawings.

Somehow, an ugly feeling uncurls in his belly as he hears Louis did it for real. Not to make him laugh, not just for Harry – just because he could. Maybe to make someone else laugh. He doesn't want to dwell on that thought too much.

‘Dead boring? That’s not exactly the best promo talk, Nialler. You’ll have to work on that.’

Niall makes a sound of disagreement as he waves Louis off. “I don’t need to promote Porto to you. You’re already here anyways, best policy is honesty eh?”

‘Right. Somehow I don’t think you all follow through on that policy here, though.’

Harry knows it’s meant as a dig towards Niall for not admitting his crush on Shawn, but he can’t help but take it personally and scoffs.

It leaves him with a few confused glances in his direction, and a raised eyebrow from Louis. Because Harry is an adult who most definitely has grown over his ‘making a scene’ phase, he swipes his Corona from where Shawn had left it for him on top of the bar, then stalks off towards the beach. It’s decidedly less aggressive than throwing that statement right back in Louis’ face.

He sits there for a bit, trying to get rid of the tight ball of stress that’s formed in his stomach. Once the water starts lapping at his feet does he realise he’s been out on the beach for almost an hour. Maybe he _hasn't_ grown out of his 'making a scene' phase. 

‘Guess I should go back,’ Harry mutters to himself. He’s just about ready to get up and walk back, when someone plops down next to him on the sand.

“Almost thought you’d drowned yourself in the Mediterranean,” Louis jokes as he looks over at Harry from under his eyelashes.

It’s an unfair move, because he knows Harry can’t deny him anything when he does that.

So he harrumphs and shrugs. They’re quiet for a bit as Harry tries very hard to ignore Louis’ presence. 

Louis clears his throat after a while, breaking the silence. “I, well – I know this is years overdue, and you’re probably not in the mood to hear this judging by what happened in there and the car, but I guess I’m going to be a little selfish here in hopes of salvaging the situation. I really am sorry for how things ended. Between us. I never meant to hurt you, and it sucks to know that you felt like you couldn’t trust me – that I failed you like that. It also sucked to hear it was just a fledgling relationship for you when I was halfway in love with you at the time, but well – I guess that’s in the past.”

It’s not what Harry is expecting him to say. ‘Uhhh.’

“And I’m sorry that I’m now invading in your space, in your _life,_ really. If I’d known you worked here, maybe I could’ve applied somewhere else.”

Hearing those words coming from Louis’ mouth makes Harry realise how ridiculous it sounds. Besides, if he’s being honest – he definitely owes Louis an apology for giving him the stupid ultimatum to begin with, and not telling him about Ireland at the time. Most of all, as awkward and unsure Harry feels about Louis, he doesn't want him to leave either. 

‘Don’t be stupid. We can be colleagues. I already told you that in the car.’

Louis shoots him a look. “Sure, we’ll just pretend you didn’t just storm out of a bar only because of me.”

‘It wasn’t because of you,’ Harry tries, but they both know he’s lying.

“It’s fine. It is what it is, yeah?” Louis offers with a forgiving grin, then moves to stand again. Harry looks up at him, silhouette half-hidden by the dark night surrounding them, and wonders once more what he did in life to deserve this twist of fate.

“Night, Harold.”

‘See you, Louis.’ It’s the first time he’s said his name out loud and let himself feel a little sad about it.

When Harry gets back to the bar, Niall’s waiting for him with an incredibly judgmental look on his face. It’s not often Harry’s the one being subjected to one of those, and he feels slightly uncomfortable not knowing what kind of lecture is waiting for him.

He didn’t even get to ask Louis if he told the others they dated and why exactly their break-up was as messy as it ended up being. Harry is pretty sure Niall would blame him – and he’d probably be right.

“Louis already left, but he told me to give you 20 euros,” he opens with, and Harry’s a bit confused until he realises that it’s the gas money Louis was talking about earlier.

It’s only a little bit crazy, since he didn’t have to go out of his way at all to drive him to the same bar Harry was going to go to anyways.

“I’m only going to give it to you on the _condition_ that you explain to me what’s going on.” Niall retracts his arm, waving the bill back and forth just out of Harry’s range.

Harry sighs. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting something like this, and he knows he would’ve had to explain things sooner or later. He does. He just – didn’t want that moment to be now already.

Moreover, he’s a little surprised and anxious over the fact that apparently Louis hasn’t said anything either.

‘Any chance Louis spoke to you about it already?’ He grimaces, slightly afraid of the answer. Niall shakes his head, though.

“Louis didn’t tell us anything. Said it was your business and given that you _clearly_ have never really mentioned him – he decided it was up to you to share. He didn’t want to risk making you even angrier than you already were, I suppose.”

And the thing is. The thing is Harry _is_ angry. But not because Louis crossed him or failed him or anything like that. He’s angry at himself for the fact that after all these years he still has feelings for Louis. Also he’s only slightly angry that over the years Louis has only ripened like the best of wines and cheeses and he’s only gotten better and fitter and just more perfect all around.

He lets his shoulders hang and motions for Niall to follow him back out to his truck. It’s a tradition of sorts, been like that ever since he and Niall got to Porto and Harry finally got to live out his dream of buying an obnoxious pick-up truck. He’s got pillows and blankets stuffed under the backseat, and whenever they have a serious heart-to-heart, they just hang out after work in his truck. It’s the perfect place for Harry to tell Niall what exactly has been going on.

Before he starts talking, he can’t help but ask. “Are you absolutely positive – not even Liam said anything to you guys?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “No. All he said was that it was just like Louis to go check up on others. Apparently he used to do that all the time with his squad mates before. Then he left once Louis came back to give him a ride home.”

Harry nods as he takes a swig from the beer Niall had brought along for him.

“Hey,” Niall gasped, “does this mean Liam knows whatever happened between you two?! Am I the only one left out?!”

Harry’d be irritated if it was anyone but Niall asking that question. ‘I don’t think Liam knows, to be honest? Pretty sure he’d have treated me differently if he knew. He doesn’t seem much the lying type, does he?’

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t ever heard of one dishonourable incident involving Liam. He’s the epitome of the good guy. In that sense, it’s not at all strange that he and Louis are the friends that they are. Even if Louis’ got more of a mischievous streak. When he thinks about it, Liam is essentially the Charles Boyle to Louis’ Jake Peralta. A harmless do-gooder who is super invested in and cares deeply about his friendship

“Okay. Well. I’d hope I’m _your_ Charles Boyle then,” Niall mutters. Harry isn’t so sure – he’s more of a Gina. Niall’s a schemer, and he usually gets people to do just what he wants – even when they don’t even realize it. “But let’s not dwell on this. You’re still avoiding my question. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you guys dated and broke up.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut as he bites his lip in hopes that Niall drops the thought as quickly as it came up. He’s not that lucky.

“Oh my _god_ you guys dated and broke up. Fuck – did he break up with you? Is that it? Is that why we can’t be friends with him? Was he a dick? He doesn’t come across as one, maybe he’s changed. Or maybe he’s a well-disguised one. I hate those,” Niall rambles on once realisation has dawned on him. Harry decides it’s best to interrupt him so he can just get it all over with and hope Louis and he will go back to their strange combination of being amicable yet distant and conflicted with each other as soon as possible.

‘Technically he did, but only because I made him.’

Niall gives him a look, but Harry shakes his head and holds up his hand to keep Niall from commenting. ‘Truly, I did. I gave him an ultimatum – I know, I know that’s bad. Just. I’ll start at the beginning.’

He begins by telling Niall how they met in their first class, and how they’d instantly clicked. It hadn’t taken long at all for them to fall from friends into friends with benefits territory, only for that to segue into a full-fledged relationship months later.

‘We officially dated for about 5 months. I’d been thinking about the abroad program since before then. I don’t think Louis remembered, or realised I’d been that serious about it. Which was partially my fault, because I never really told him about all the steps I took to make it happen. By the time I got my acceptance letter, it was too late and I’d been obsessed with the idea of surprising him with the idea of going together,’ Harry trails off.

“…And he didn’t want to come with you.” Niall finishes for him.

‘He did not want to come with me. He was happy for me, but Louis wanted to stay close to home. Ironic, since we’re here now. But back then I told him either he joined me or we were over,’ Harry lets out a weak laugh. ‘He didn’t choose me.’

They sit in silence for a bit, Niall just sipping from his beer as he keeps his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Do you regret it? The ultimatum?”

Harry shoots his friend an incredulous look. ‘Of course I regret it. He told me he’d be happy to try long distance and I stupidly thought he’d be forced into coming with me if I left him no other option. But in reality I left myself with no other option.’

“Have you apologized, then?”

He’s looking at Harry with a raised eyebrow, as if he’s being scolded. It’s the only reason why Harry doesn’t roll his eyes back at him – he can’t handle a lecture when he’s still sobering up from too much tequila.

‘No! For one, it’s in the past. Two – there were multiple moments where he could’ve reached out to me instead, and yet he didn’t. Thirdly, which is infuriating by the way, is that he thinks I’m somehow _still_ torn up about this all like I’m some sort of baby. He didn’t ruin my life or anything. And then he goes and tells me he was in _love_ with me back then? Who does that?!’

Harry’s almost out of breath when he finishes speaking. He hadn’t even realized himself yet that what’s really bothering him is that Louis had just thrown his confession out there like it means nothing. It’s not nothing. In fact, it’s something Harry has tried for years to avoid thinking about – his own feelings for Louis and the depth of them.

“Were you?” is all Niall asks. He can’t bring himself to verbally respond, so he just meekly nods. Why else would he have asked for Louis to join him.

“What about now?”

‘I don’t know, Niall,’ Harry sighs. He’s not really sober enough to have this conversation and he’s only slightly afraid that with a little more liquor in his system he is going to blurt out unnecessary sentiments about Louis' eyelashes. They’re perfect, is the thing.

He fiddles with the label on his beer bottle, tearing off a small piece that he then shoots at Niall. Niall who has a very strange smile on his face. Oh God. He probably said the part about eyelashes out loud.

“There is a fine line between love and hate, you know? The opposite of love is indifference. And you are not indifferent to Louis. You just need to figure out what it is exactly that you want from him.”

Harry hums noncommittally as another piece of the label comes off, but this time he rolls it into a ball and puts it in his pocket. He'll throw it out later.

“Also, if possible – next time you have a clandestine meeting with him, don’t storm off. Use it as an opportunity to apologize. I’m sure he'd still appreciate it.”

On second thought, he reaches back into his pocket and aims the ball of paper at Niall instead.

* * *

Work is awkward.

Not necessarily more awkward than it was before, but this time around Harry isn't actively trying to avoid Louis. Now, there are tentative jokes and stilted conversations outside of their work-related exchanges.

Niall keeps telling him he should apologize too, but he hasn't really been able to find a moment to do so. Not that he is going out of his way to find one, either. But he knows he has to, because every moment he spends with Louis is both intoxicating and nauseating at the same time. He broke his heart once. He's a little scared it's going to happen again.

Timing isn’t Harry’s strong suit, and so the moment arrives randomly as he walks in on a conversation between Louis and Liam on Louis’ skywriting activities

‘Honestly Liam, it’s not my fault you immediately assumed I’d written another penis in the sky when all it said was _BOO_.”

“Oh come on! That was clearly you trying to sneak some phallic gesture in there. You can’t add that to a marriage proposal – it’s just inappropriate.”

Liam looks exasperated, and Louis downright unimpressed. ‘But it _wasn’t_ inappropriate, because I wrote out ‘boo’ just like the client wanted. Trust me – if I’d wanted to throw in a penis, you’d have known.’

“Fine,” Liam sighs before giving Louis’ shoulder a pat as he gets out of his seat.

Harry takes his place and waits a beat until he’s sure Liam’s out of earshot, then turns to Louis.

‘You totally did it on purpose, didn’t you?’

Louis rolls his eyes and grins mischievously. “Of course I did – who do you take me for? Besides, who even uses the word _boo_ these days? It’s so basic, _honestly_.”

Harry can’t help but soften at the genuinely horrified face Louis makes as he continues talking on what else he considers the downfall of the English language.

‘Fair enough, but you really shouldn’t put dicks in things people don’t want them to be. Consent’s important, even when it comes to phallic artwork.’ he adds semi-seriously.

Louis pretends to be offended. “I know for a fact you quite like and even enjoy my artwork!” He exclaims indignantly.

‘But the skywriting wasn’t for me, well was it?’ Harry counters triumphantly, ‘it’s not like you were writing to ask _me_ to marry _you._ ’

There’s an awkward laugh and that’s when Harry realises his grave mistake of broaching the topic of long-term relationships, particularly theirs. They’d been doing really well in ignoring it so far, but of course he’s gone and ruined it now. It’s a little cruel, as if Harry’s rubbing the ‘what could’ve been’ right in his face.

“You’re right. I never envisioned skywriting to be part of it all,” Louis mumbles out loud, and Harry wants to scream. He’s being torn apart by the most conflicting feelings of wanting to run and get as far away as possible, as well as bring Louis in so close that every single molecule of their beings are touching.

Louis keeps crawling under his skin and Harry feels woefully inadequate in explaining how he feels. Probably because he doesn’t really _know_ what he feels to begin with. How can he be hung up on a short relationship that happened years ago and didn’t even end all that well?

It’s confusing, but he tries to keep Niall’s advice in mind as he speaks up.

‘You know I was in love with you, too, right? I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me if I hadn’t been.’

He figures he owes Louis at least that much of an explanation. It’s the only thing he’s sure of – that he loved Louis in the past.

Harry isn’t sure what kind of response he was expecting from Louis, but it definitely isn’t anger and hurt. Louis frowns at his words. “Then why didn’t you want to try long distance?”

‘Why didn’t you want to come with me?’ He counters.

‘I asked first,’ Louis says primly, but it just makes Harry roll his eyes.

“Oh real mature. Why am I the only one who needs to explain himself over something that happened ages ago?”

‘Ugh, you are absolutely _infuriating_!’ Louis spits out, then stalks across the room towards the door. Just before he leaves, he turns around and gives Harry one last look. ‘You know, I might regret how it ended – that _we_ ended - but I don’t regret my decision. It was the right one to make.’

It feels like a punch in the gut, and Harry kind of wants to storm right past him to keep him from leaving, argue some more or push past him to be the first one out the room just to prove a point. Instead, he stares intently at the floor as he adamantly tries to tell his heart not to care so much about Louis’ fading footsteps.

The door opens again, but it’s someone wearing much heavier boots that makes his way over to Harry and offers him a bottle of water.

“So I guess this would be a really bad time to tell you I was pretty much standing right outside and heard everything,” Liam says before taking a seat across from him.

Harry just sighs. It was only a matter of time before one of their weird exchanges would be witnessed by someone else.

“I couldn’t quite tell whether you two were going to solve the argument by shouting or kissing, to be honest.”

Liam gives him an awkward grin as Harry starts spluttering, and waits patiently for him to regain his breathing.

‘Did you know?’ Harry can’t help but ask, leaving the words ‘about our history’ unspoken. 

Liam just shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Remember what I said about Louis’ callsign? That I have no idea why he’s called that?” He questions instead, shifting the focus away from whatever complex relationship Louis and Harry currently have with one another. Harry’s pretty grateful for it.

“I lied. I do know why they called him that. My partner – he and Louis used to fly together,” Liam sighs, as if he still isn’t quite sure whether he’s making the right decision by telling Harry, but is doing it anyways. “He’s introverted, but he always said to me he and Louis were similar – that he’d never met anyone like Louis. Who was boisterous and loud, but underneath all that just as closed off and, well, _shy_ in a sense. Very private. They called him the rogue, because he’d just go off grid and no one really knew anything about him or his personal life. I think Zayn said that Louis is a great listener, but sometimes – sometimes that means people forget to listen to _him_ as well in the process.”

It tugs at a memory in Harry’s brain, where Louis had confided in him about his family after Harry had done the same. Maybe he hadn’t appreciated him opening up to him enough at the time. That trust had been there so easily, he’d taken it for granted. Hadn’t properly understood the gravity of sharing things like that. 

‘Sharing usually means people turning away,’ he repeats absentmindedly, suddenly remembering what Louis had told him back then. It hurts to think that in a way, Harry had done the same thing. Turned his back on their relationship when things got hard. 

“He didn’t even tell them about his mum’s illness until he took time off for the funeral,” Liam continues.

And that’s – Harry didn’t know that. Dread settles over him as the thought hits him that he’s never met Louis’ mother, and now he never will. He always spoke of her so highly, in such a warm voice that he only reserved for his family.

She was his best friend.

And of course Harry knows that there’s no way he could’ve been aware of this, knows Louis doesn’t owe him anything – didn’t have to tell him or anyone for that matter about his mum. But there’s this sudden enormous weight on Harry’s chest that feels a lot like regret.

He wishes he could’ve been there for Louis. Wishes he had met his mum. Wishes he’d been less stubborn, and a little more understanding.

And he gets it now. He gets exactly why Louis doesn’t regret staying in the UK. He even gets why maybe Louis needed a change of scenery, to leave the emotional baggage behind for a bit. He gets why it’s just as hard for Louis to see him – a reminder of what used to be – as it is for Harry.

“So to go back to what you said before, I have zero clue as to what exactly went down between you two. I just know that Louis cares, and I think you do too. Whatever it was, whatever it is – it’s not really over.”

Harry just nods, a million thoughts still running through his head as Liam continues to speak. “Then the question really is – do you want it to be?”

Before he even realises it, he’s shaking his head. ‘No.’

“Then don’t let it slip through your fingers because of petty bullshit from the past. Louis – he’s a great guy. He deserves the best. So _be_ the best,” Liam stresses.

Usually, Liam exudes a cuddly bear-type air. Right now, it’s clear to Harry that he’s dead serious.

‘Message received.’

The alarm on his phone rings, letting Harry now he has to get back to his station. He gives Liam a one-armed hug, then quickly returns to the control room.

Niall doesn’t even look at him, just informs him he’s late before returning to his conversation with a pilot on permission to land.

There are already a bunch of flight plans on Harry’s monitor, and as he scans through them he recognises Louis’ callsign. At least it’ll give him an opportunity to talk to him, he thinks to himself. Anxiety creeps up on him as the minutes pass by, and Louis’ planned flight comes closer.

‘This is RYR41VA, can I get a clear on runway 14 – we’re at Charlie,’ Louis’ voice comes through Harry’s headset.

“Copy that RYR41VA. You’re currently second in departure.”

‘Roger. RYR41VA holding short at Charlie.’ 

Harry knows that it’s an open frequency, but figures he’s got to take his chance when he can still speak to Louis.

“Tower for RYR41VA – sorry about the incident before, genuine apologies. I was out of line, and I hope you can forgive me.”

For the couple of seconds that there’s no reply, Harry fears Louis is just going to ignore it altogether. But then the radio crackles to life.

‘RYR41VA – copy.’

It’s not exactly what Harry was hoping for, but he figures he can’t really hope for anything more than that. He sighs, then quickly clears the runway for Louis.

“Ryan 41VA, you’ll go left at Juliet after giving way to traffic – Vueling 13. Cleared runway 14, climb at Ocean View.”

He pauses, then decides to add “safe flight” to his message. This time Louis’ a little faster with responding.

“Left Juliet, after Vueling 13. Ocean View climb at 14. Ryan 41. Thank you, Tower. See you soon.”

Harry doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but it sounds a lot like a promise. It suddenly makes him realise just how much he wants Louis not to break it.

‘I’ll keep you to that,’ he responds, even though he knows that chances are small he’s still on the open frequency.

“That’s nice. Sorry to interrupt Tower, but could I get a departure route? Transavia 431, heading for Barcelona,” someone else comments and Harry tries his hardest not to be embarrassed by it.

They’re absolutely right though, he’s got a job to get back to.

* * *

Harry doesn’t see Louis until a week later. If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d think Louis is avoiding him.

“Niall – do you think Louis is avoiding me?” He questions his best mate as they’re lying on the beach, enjoying their day off.

He’s staring up at the sky, frowning at the various patterns the planes are leaving behind. One of those could be Louis.

‘Dunno. Have you given him any reason to avoid you?’

Offended, he looks over at his friend and flicks him off. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Niall remains unbothered and just drapes another towel over his body to shield him from the sun. He’s already got a spectacular sunburn going on his nose, and Harry’s only slightly worried about the rest of his body.

‘m just saying. You’re the one that was being petulant.’

Harry’s jaw drops and he kind of wants to argue the tough love his friend is giving him, but when he thinks about it – he knows he’s right.

“Point taken. But I apologised. I kind of wanted to, hm,” he trails off, not even sure himself _what_ it is he wants to do.

‘Want to what? Pick up where you left off? I think that you’re going to have to be the one to make that first step,’ Niall points out, now fully turning his body so he’s facing Harry – towel still artfully draped over his face to cast a shadow on his skin.

‘Everything’s up in the air for as long as you don’t articulate what it is you want from him. He’s been pretty open and made the first move in rekindling your relationship – in whatever form.’

Harry wants to argue that Louis hasn’t at any point said that he still likes him, but then again – neither has Harry.

‘Just put on your big boy pants and clear the air. Please don’t make any of us endure the pining and sexual tension between the two of you any more.’

His jaw drops at Niall’s commentary, even though he can’t deny that he’s been pining. “You’re lying! How can there be any sexual tension when we haven’t even been in the same room for over a week?! Also are you making air references on purpose? Because I really appreciate that.”

Niall’s eyebrow lifts up. ‘Imagine how terrible it’ll be once you’re _actually_ in the same room when you’re still not sure where you two stand,’ he fakes a shudder. ‘And I always speak with purpose. How could that _fly_ over your head?’

Harry can’t help but snort, and soon enough they’re both laughing. There’s a wondrous gasp from somewhere next to them on the beach, making them turn to see what’s going on.

There’s people pointing towards the sky, where another plane is flying some advertorial banner over the beach. This time, Harry can tell that it's not Louis' plane flying over their heads. 

Niall shields his eyes from the sun as he looks up, then continues to dole out advice. ‘Honestly – just tell the man where your heart’s at. ‘s what I did with Shawn and we’re exclusively dating now. Why would you go and make things unnecessarily complicated?’

“You’re right, Ni. I think I know what to do,” Harry mutters distractedly, an idea forming in his head as he continues to watch the plane fade away between the clouds. 

* * *

Given that Louis has been treating him to a taste of his own medicine – avoidance – it’s up to Harry to make a move. As he’s hurrying out of the locker room and towards the hangar one week later, Harry wonders if this really is such a good idea as he’d originally thought back on the beach.

Then again, he’s got nothing left to lose. Louis and him haven’t spoken aside from over the radio, and honestly – all it’s done is cement it into Harry’s brain that he _misses_ him.

He wants to be able to joke with Louis and follow that up with a kiss or a cuddle. Like they used to do all those years ago. Cordial exchanges aren’t enough, and it’s high time Harry admits as much to himself instead of deliberately making himself miserable by forcing himself to feel and want nothing when it comes to Louis.

Admittedly, his idea is off to a bad start when Louis spots him coming in and visibly deflates a little. Harry shoots him a smile anyways and rushes to David’s desk that functions as a reception area for clients.

“I’m here for my flight now,” he quickly flashes his ID and signs a release form, then turns around to find Louis standing off to the side with an unreadable look on his face.

‘Great – your pilot’s Louis, I think you two’ve met before. The flight is 20 minutes in total. You’ll land back here and there’s a photo op afterwards,’ David continues, chancing surreptitious glances between the two of them.

“Thanks Dave. See you later,” Louis cuts him off with a charming smile, before decisively marching over to the plane.

“Here’s your gear,” he instructs Harry as he hands him the proper equipment, explaining how they work as they go. It’s all very … clinical, and while Harry can’t deny it hurts a little, it’s also slightly hot to see Louis focused at work like this.

“As David said, flying over Porto’s old city centre and back here will take about 20 minutes. Enter here please,” he points towards the door that’s right next to where “The Rogue” has been painted onto the hull of the plane.

Only once that they’re settled in and up in the air, does Louis look him in the eye. “I assume you came here to tell me something, get me alone or whatever. We’ve got about 5 minutes where we can fly semi-uninterruptedly, so – let’s have it.”

It’s not exactly the reaction Harry was expecting or hoping for, but he knows he’s the one who has to prove himself here, so he just nods and starts talking. ‘I just really wanted to have the opportunity to really apologise to you in person so we could talk, and booking myself into your schedule seemed like the only option left.’

As he explains himself, it dawns on him. ‘I now realise how that could be very pushy and creepy, so I also apologise for that.’

Louis is clearly focused on flying, but still manages to find a hot second to throw Harry a look. “Harold, you’re always a tad creepy. It’s fine, it’s one of your quirks. Don’t worry about it. I was going to talk to you. Eventually.”

There’s a wry smile on his face that makes Harry a little uneasy, but he just gives a noncommittal ‘ha’ before proceeding.

‘Right. So, Liam heard our – well – argument the other day? And he kinda told me some stuff that made me realise my own mistakes, and how wrong I was.’

Louis stiffens in his seat, his hand gripping the controller even tighter. “I don’t need your pity. And it certainly wasn’t his place to tell you anything about my life. Apparently none of my friends know this concept called boundaries.”

Perplexed at the outburst, Harry shakes his head. ‘Hold your horses for a second – I’m _not_ pitying you, and Liam was trying to be a good friend by helping me understand where you’re coming from.’

“Why?” Louis asks petulantly, refusing to look at Harry.

‘Because I’m somehow still half in love with you, you idiot!’ He exclaims exasperatedly. In for a penny in for a pound, Harry thinks as he continues speaking at a decidedly lower volume. ‘And I want you to be happy and have the best life possible, because it’s what you deserve. It sucks that I was too stubborn to contribute to that years ago, and if I can help it, I’m not going to make the same mistake again.’

Louis sits there, looking at him wide-eyed, until the radio crackles to tell them it’s time to head back towards the base again.

“Oh,” is all he says. Harry decides to just stay quiet and hope that Louis will have something more to say than that if only he gives him some time.

“I – Obviously I don’t really care about who’s at fault for breaking us up in the past. I told you that already. And I really did mean it when I said I wanted to be friends,” he starts and Harry’s heart sinks.

“But always with the hope that maybe I’d be able to get you to fall for me again,” Louis continues. “And then it felt like we were finally in a good place to grow as adults – except _clearly_ you weren’t ready. Not ready to forgive me, not ready to move on, not ready to listen to me. I don’t – I get that you wanted to understand me, but you could’ve asked _me_. Not Liam. You should’ve asked me.”

Harry sighs, he knows Louis is right, but he doesn’t really know where he’s going with this. Does he mean that he still has feelings for Harry too? Did he ruin it? Does he still have a chance – do _they_ still have a chance?

They’re quiet as Louis focuses on landing the plane, and truly Harry wants to say something – anything, but he doesn’t quite know how.

It’s well and truly embarrassing then, that David comes towards them and Harry recalls what else he’d planned, completely forgotten in the midst of it all. 

“Oh god. Oh god – David, no – I’m cancelling, please don’t –“ he starts pleadingly, but it’s too late. David's already pressed the file in Louis’ hands, and he’s already reading over the request for a skywritten message spelling out _‘Date me again please?’_

Louis looks back up at him, a confused frown on his face. ‘Did you..?’ He trails off, lips twitching. Harry’s not sure whether it’s in anger or amusement.

So he takes a deep breath, and tries to forget about the fact David is still sanding to the side as a silent witness to their exchange.

“I know – I know I broke your heart and that I said a lot of things that I shouldn’t have. And I regret it. But you broke my heart too. It just so happens I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can put it back together. Please, would you give us another chance and go out with me?”

Louis appraises him for a second, making Harry sweat for a hot second, but then his lips curl up into a small smile as he nods. ‘You know – I told myself once I saw you here that we were done, and that all we’d be was friends. But I guess, between you and me, it’s never really over.’ 

“Fucking finally,” Dave mumbles under his breath, followed by some Portuguese that Harry can’t quite follow.

Louis just raises his eyebrows before motioning Harry over. He gently reaches out a hand that Harry takes eagerly.

‘Seal it with a kiss?’

Harry can’t contain his grin as he leans in to whisper against Louis’ lips.

“I’d love to.”

….

There’s a big pink ocean and Harry’s swimming in it, while little zebus surround him wearing snorkel masks. He grins as he looks over to his side, seeing Louis surf together with a turtle as phallic clouds pass them by. 

“Hazza, baby – time to wake up” Louis’ voice sounds garbled, and Harry frowns. There’s a big wave, shaking Harry slightly, but it’s fine because Louis is closer now. Hhmm – he loves the little butterfly kisses Louis presses onto his heated skin.

“Wakey wakey,” Louis sings, and then there’s another kiss to his lips.

Harry jolts awake.

Louis is hovering over him, smile lighting up his eyes in a way that makes him outshine the sun. “Good morning Sleeping Beauty, time for work.”

And yeah. Harry is a fucking lucky bastard - life’s a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought in the comments and/or by leaving a kudo :)


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